


what are you gonna do, arrest me?

by lieanni (alphabetsleuth)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Wooyoung, Crack, Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Police Officer San
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphabetsleuth/pseuds/lieanni
Summary: “What are you gonna do, arrest me?”Wooyoung hears radio static from behind him, and within seconds, his arms are jerked upwards and bent awkwardly behind his back. At first, Wooyoung just whines in discomfort at the new position; his eyes widen as he realizes what’s happening. “Yes. SNPD, you’re under arrest.”
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	what are you gonna do, arrest me?

**Author's Note:**

> Friends old and new,
> 
> If you recognize this work, that's because I published it in August under my then account lieanni. I took a break from writing and, due to personal reasons, made the decision to delete all of my works. After talking with some mutuals, I've made the decision to repost a select few of them. I realized that a lot of the joy from writing for me was being able to share it with other people, and I didn't mean to take the (at risk of sounding presumptive) experiences that formed around my works away. So - though I'll be taking an indefinite break from writing for ateez - whether you're new to this work or have already read it, I hope you enjoy it!

Wooyoung’s palms are sweating as he walks up to the house. 

He could hear the Top 20 mix blaring from a street away, but now that he’s at the bottom of the steps leading up to the frat, Wooyoung _feels_ the music. Frankly, he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the amped-up bass and an earthquake; hand it to Theta to give the San Andreas Fault some competition. Also, seriously, who the fuck heard a song by Lewis Capaldi and thought, hey, you know what would be nice? If this was EDM. What, so that Wooyoung could turn up through his tears?

The sheer size of the place is offensive, considering that Wooyoung can barely turn around in his apartment without knocking something over. Maybe that’s just because his roommate keeps his shit lying around everywhere. Yunho insists that he has a method, but what’s the method - playing hide-and-go-seek with your belongings? In any case, Wooyoung feels a bit flexed on as he makes his way up the fucking _cobblestone_ stairs.

Had he really wanted to, Wooyoung could have lived here. Back in freshman year, Mingi asked (see: begged) Wooyoung to accompany him to the first rush event of the season, and Wooyoung only agreed to it because Mingi said that there would be free pizza. There was no pizza, and Wooyoung was very upset, but for some reason a handful of frats found him interesting, Theta being one of them. He dropped two weeks into the pledging process; Grey Goose he could handle, but the moment they mentioned “knuckle push-ups on glass”, Wooyoung was out of there.

His thighs are aching when he finally makes it to the door - why the fuck does a frat house need so many goddamn steps? Anyone more than one drink in might fall to their fucking death - and Wooyoung makes a mental note to do leg day more than two times a week. And before you judge him - he’s a busy student, okay? A studious boy busy doing studious things, like playing Super Smash Bros until 3 AM on a Tuesday. Mingi’s one of the brothers manning the door tonight, and when he spots Wooyoung, an easy grin stretches across his face.

“Hey, it’s good to see you!” Mingi says. Yells, really, so that Wooyoung can hear him over _Shakira, Shakira_. Wooyoung leans in for the bro handshake, and Mingi claps him on the back so hard that it leaves him wheezing. Clearing his throat, Wooyoung makes brief conversation with Mingi, ending it with the usual “see you around!” that every college student knows carries no weight whatsoever.

The influx of people in the main room makes Wooyoung nervous, though he really has no reason to be. From what he can see under the strobe lighting - where the fuck is Theta getting all these funds from? - everyone at this party is either high or wasted, and he’s pretty sure there’s a group of people in the corner rolling. The last time Wooyoung was at a party like this, he saw a girl snort a line using her phone case; he’d honestly been more impressed than disgusted at the wholehearted lack of sanitary standard.

Still, the plastic bag in his pant pocket, which can’t weigh more than 10 grams, feels like a ball and chain; the analogy reminds Wooyoung of just how much he does _not_ want to go to jail for this.

In his head, Wooyoung can hear the dealer laughing at him. _“Yo, chill the fuck out, man. Why are you so uptight? Just go with the flow and shit.”_ The thought makes Wooyoung’s jaw clench; god, he hates that guy. But Wooyoung needed to make some money quick, and he’d been informed - perhaps not by the most reliable sources, but informed nonetheless - that this was the way to do it.

So here he is, trying to figure out who he should tap on the shoulder and ask if they’re looking to buy. Really, Wooyoung still hasn’t gotten the question down. What’s he supposed to say? “Hey, you lookin’ for some of that good flour, if you know what I mean?” 

After a few more seconds of unintentionally suspicious loitering, Wooyoung decides that the optimal course of action is to, first, calm his nerves. He heads over to one of the kajillion tables with liters of alcohol on them and pours himself a cup. Wooyoung downs the whole thing in one go, which, given the immediate burning, may have been a mistake; thankfully, some girl, enamored by his absolute lack of self-preservation, offers him some chase. Wooyoung nods in thanks, but is reminded of how much he hates orange juice and, for that matter, parties like this in general.

He makes his way over to a side room; maybe the people here would be less _on_ and more _in search of_ drugs. Does Wooyoung think about and refer to drugs like he’s never interacted with them before in his life? Yes, but he’s seen Yeosang on molly before, and he does not want anything to do with that shit, so everything under the umbrella Wooyoung will distantly refer to as “drugs”. 

Immediately, Wooyoung realizes that he’s wrong; people only go to offshoots because they’re already so gone that staying in the main room would be hazardous because they’d fall over and get stepped on or something. At least it smells better in here - vape is shit for your lungs, sure, but it’s great for Wooyoung’s nose and current overall sanity. Wooyoung takes a careful step over a guy lying motionless on the floor - Wooyoung squints a bit to check that he’s still breathing - and makes his way over to the adjacent door. 

The door opens onto a deck, which is a very questionable architectural decision, but Wooyoung surmises that when you have 3000 square feet to work with, you can really do whatever the fuck you want. The backyard is, as expected, also gigantic, though it appears less so because of the hundred or so people currently outside. There are three massive speakers lining the inner edge of the patio, and the synth is so sharp that it makes Wooyoung wince. He shuffles off the deck and onto the grass, over to a well-lit area where most of the crowd is gathered. The other partygoers don’t seem to mind the volume; they bump along to the music and against each other, cheering and raising red solos in the air when the beat drops.

In the middle of the crowd, Wooyoung doesn’t feel so conspicuous, and for a moment he’s able to forget about the item in his pocket. He tries to enjoy himself, dancing along to the music, and at one point strikes up a conversation with a girl next to him. It devolves when some guy taps her on the shoulder and she turns and starts making out with him, but it wasn’t unpleasant while it lasted. Wooyoung figures that she won’t get too mad if he doesn’t say goodbye, so he just turns and bops his way over to the edge of the crowd.

Wooyoung’s pondering how he might go about finally accomplishing the task he came here for when he feels someone press up behind him. He jolts at the sensation; out of the corner of his eye, he registers a guy who looks about his age, and Wooyoung relaxes a bit. The stranger leans a bit closer, front now flush to Wooyoung’s back. Wooyoung’s no stranger to this - Mingi has dragged him to a fair share of ragers, claiming that Wooyoung owes it to him for dropping as a pledge. So, Wooyoung plays along, and he’s quite delighted by the realization that maybe he can sell to this guy. From the measured way he’s moving against Wooyoung, he doesn’t seem all that gone under any influence. _Yet._ Wooyoung tilts his head back, letting it rest against the stranger’s shoulder. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth and glances to the side.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t _this_. The guy’s cheekbones are high and intensely defined, and at risk of sounding cheesy, Wooyoung thinks that his jawline is sharp enough to cut. If Seonghwa were here, he’d probably ask the man to drop his skin care routine. Wooyoung is by no means promiscuous - Yeosang, ever so helpful, constantly insists that Wooyoung needs to work on upping his sex appeal - but he has grinded against a fair share of good-looking people, and the guy currently behind him easily takes top 3. Immediately after he thinks it, Wooyoung reprimands himself for the sleazy objectiveness of the thought; his mother raised him to be a better man than this, damn it.

The guy, for whatever reason, seems to be holding back; when Wooyoung rolls his hips backwards with more fervency, the person behind him mirrors the shift, keeping a small but infuriating distance between them. Wooyoung’s beginning to think that the guy doesn’t even want him when he feels a hand rest on his hip, fingers lingering on Wooyoung’s upper-thigh.

“Isn’t it illegal for someone as pretty as you to be alone at a party like this?” the guy says, breath warm against the shell of Wooyoung’s ear. Wooyoung giggles at the sensation, and he’s a bit flattered by the flirty lilt in the other’s voice. He’s so caught up that he doesn’t even realize that the other’s hand is now ghosting over the bag in his pocket, millimeters away from the drugs that Wooyoung has been desperately trying to get rid of all night.

“What are you gonna do, arrest me?”

Wooyoung hears radio static from behind him, and within seconds, his arms are jerked upwards and bent awkwardly behind his back. At first, Wooyoung just whines in discomfort at the new position; his eyes widen as he realizes what’s happening. “Yes. SNPD, you’re under arrest.”

The people next to them immediately back away; the movement shockwaves through the entire crowd, and people begin scrambling in hectic confusion. The pressure pinning Wooyoung’s arms suddenly disappears, and they fall back, uselessly, to his sides. Wooyoung spins around, not sure whether to be angry or confused. At the expression on the guy’s face, he settles on both; he looks surprised, as if he didn’t think the crowd would disperse at the words he just uttered.

“Just kidding!” the guy announces, voice strained. “I’m not actually a police officer, sorry, I’m just into shit like that.” Wooyoung hears a collective groan pass over the crowd, and even those who had made it back up onto the patio pace back to their places on the grass.

“Fuck you, dude, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” someone near them says, and the guy bows his head apologetically, meek grin on his face. Had Wooyoung not been pissed about the fact that this person had literally wrenched his arms at 70 degrees not thirty seconds ago, he’d probably have found the smile cute. Maybe he does find the smile cute. Hell, under the right circumstances, Wooyoung might’ve enjoyed the manhandling, too. It doesn’t matter, though, because Wooyoung is going to let this guy fucking _have_ _it_.

“What the fuck was that?” Wooyoung demands, spinning to glare at the person behind him. _Oh, wow._ Now that they’re face-to-face, Wooyoung is able to confirm his conjecture; even though his outfit is a bit ridiculous - why would you wear a cable-knit sweater to a frat party? - he still looks fantastic. Wooyoung means to steel his gaze, but it softens a bit at how genuinely apologetic the other looks. So, instead of yelling at the stranger to fuck off - _you mean, to fuck you,_ the horny part of Wooyoung suggests - he crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff.

“You’re cute, I’ll give you that.” Wooyoung begs his brain to stop thirsting and catch up with the rest of the sentence; he pretends to cough to give himself time. “Still, I’m pissed.”

The stranger quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip lifting into a slight smirk. Wooyoung is now fully prepared to be charmed, and hopes that his giddiness doesn’t show in his appearance.

“Hi pissed, I’m San.”

Wooyoung balks. He sputters as he processes the words; as soon as he’s done - it takes him a good five seconds - he bursts out laughing. “Sorry, _what?_ ” he chokes. He feels a bit guilty at how flustered San becomes as Wooyoung tries to get his bearings; Wooyoung is cackling so hard that tears are welling up in his eyes.

“Shit, sorry,” Wooyoung wheezes. San hesitantly places a hand on Wooyoung’s back and pats, and the sheer awkwardness of the motion - in contrast to the confidence he’d seen from the other just seconds ago - has Wooyoung shaking with laughter yet again. It takes him another minute to finally calm down, at which point San’s face is flushed a light pink and _yeah, Wooyoung definitely thinks he’s cute_.

“I was just...not expecting that,” Wooyoung clarifies - as if it even needed to be said - and San purses his lips. Wooyoung smiles at the sulky expression on the other’s face; he giggles and, feeling daring, steps forward and wraps his arms around San’s neck. The other’s eyes widen and Wooyoung feels his shoulders tense; before Wooyoung can reconsider, though, San relaxes and tilts his head curiously at Wooyoung. 

“What were you expecting?”

“Not a dad joke, that’s for sure.” Wooyoung can’t help but grin at the way San sulks at his response. “Hey, don’t be upset! I thought it was kind of cute.” The pout on San's face hasn't completely disappeared, so Wooyoung leans further into the embrace and catches the other's gaze. 

"Hi San, I’m Wooyoung.”

The flush on San’s face spreads to his ears, and he breaks eye contact with Wooyoung, slightly shifting in place. Wooyoung laughs and reaches a hand up to brush San’s fringe out of his eyes; he’s a bit hurt by the way the other immediately jerks back when he sees Wooyoung’s arm move, but San ultimately stays still and let Wooyoung sweep his hair to the side. 

It takes only another second of looking at the person standing in front of him for Wooyoung to make the executive decision that selling drugs can wait another day. “Hey, what do you say we get out of here? My roommate’s out of town for the weekend, so…”

San’s eyebrows shoot up, and he blinks a couple times, as if he’s trying to process Wooyoung’s words. “Yeah,” he says, seeming surprised at the words that come out of his own mouth. Wooyoung lifts an eyebrow at the hesitation in San’s response, and San follows up with a more assured “Sure, that sounds good.”

Wooyoung grabs San’s hand - jesus, why does San flinch so much? - and leads him back into the frat house. The side room now smells heavily of marijuana, and Wooyoung thinks the scrunch of San’s nose in reaction is adorable. Within the next minute, they’re out of the house, making their way down the cobblestone steps to the street below.

“So, are you a student here?” Wooyoung asks, and San wavers before answering.

“Kind of,” he replies.

Wooyoung furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m on campus a lot,” San answers, extremely noncommittally, and Wooyoung begins to get worried. He stops on the third-to-last-step, survival instincts kicking in.

San, who has made it to the bottom, turns and looks up at him. “What?”

“So you’re _not_ a student here? You’re not gonna, like, do anything weird to me, right?”

The fact that San looks genuinely offended by Wooyoung’s inquiry eases some of Wooyoung’s anxiety. “What, no!”

“Alright, then,” Wooyoung muses, “But that’s exactly what someone who would do something weird to me would say.”

San rolls his eyes, but Wooyoung can see the smile pulling at his lips. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, where San is waiting, San immediately veers left, as if he already has a destination in mind. 

“Wait, aren’t we going to my place? It’s this way,” Wooyoung says, gesturing the opposite direction.

“Oh.” San pauses. “Well, I drove here, so we could just drive to your place?”

He sounds hopeful, enough for Wooyoung to temporarily stash away the worry that he’s going to die as a result of his own horniness. “Alright, sounds good.”

The walk takes about five minutes, and it’s a rather good time for Wooyoung - San decides to ask him how he feels about the weather, continuing the trend of acting like a middle-aged father of three, and Wooyoung ends up laughing so hard that his sides begin to hurt.

Wooyoung’s grin fades when they arrive at their destination. He looks from San, to the cop car, then back at San. “What the _fuck_.”

\---

San feels bad about it, he really does.

“I just didn’t want to arrest you in front of all of those people,” he explains, shuffling a bit under the glare that Wooyoung gives him. “I thought it would be too embarrassing. So, if you could, uh...calmly get in. That would be very nice.”

Wooyoung's stare is now incredulous. “What if I don’t want to? I could just run away from you right now.”

“Well, you could try,” San replies, “But I don’t think you’d make it very far.”

Wooyoung looks offended. “I mean, I think you’re very fit,” San rushes to append, “But I actually train for this. Like, every day. Also, I don’t want to have to tackle you or twist your arms behind your back again because, as I’m sure you’ve realized, it hurts.”

For a few moments, the two just stare at each other. Wooyoung moves, and San reacts immediately; he reaches out and roughly jerks Wooyoung’s arms back. He’s set on pushing the other to the ground when Wooyoung lets out a whine.

“What the fuck, why did you do that? I was going to get into the car!” 

San realizes that Wooyoung’s probably telling the truth when he reconsiders their surroundings; Wooyoung is now closer to the passenger side of the car, and San’s betting that had Wooyoung chosen to run, he’d have bolted _away_ from the vehicle, not towards it.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” San releases Wooyoung, but keeps a hand wrapped around the other’s wrist. Wooyoung lets out a huff of disapproval. San unlocks the car - the whole exchange is painful, really, as San fumbles for his keys; usually, it’d take him a matter of seconds, but Wooyoung’s gaze makes it take triple the time.

San nudges him towards the back of the vehicle, and Wooyoung turns to give him a wary side-eye. “Really? You trust me enough to not put me in handcuffs, but you’re still going to relegate me to the backseat? It’s the _least_ you could do to let me ride shotgun.”

San wants to point out how ridiculous the logic is, but the pout on Wooyoung’s face, for some god forsaken reason, has him defeated. With a sigh, San stalks forward and opens the passenger-side door. Wooyoung gives him an exaggerated nod, expression smug, and lowers himself into the car. 

San had expected the ride to the station to be silent and awkward, but despite the prospect of arrest, Wooyoung remains chipper. He chatters on with renewed gusto, and though San had intended to keep things serious, he finds himself affected by Wooyoung’s energy. Unwittingly, his short, one-word responses turn into sentence-long recounts, driven up by Wooyoung’s animated reactions and bright, howling laughter. 

Things flow so naturally between the two of them that it’s easy to forget the situation they’re in, but both of them receive a stark reminder when San finally pulls into the station. Wooyoung lets out a dejected sigh, and San’s guilt doubles at the sulky expression on Wooyoung’s face.

“You’re not surprised again, I hope?”

“Honestly, up until now, I was still banking on this whole thing being a joke. Like, maybe you were just super immersed in the role play or something, you know?”

San purses his lips, but the smile still finds its way to his face.

“It’s not too late to tell me that you’re joking,” Wooyoung grins.

“I wish I could.” The words are out of San’s mouth before he can fully process them; when he does, he forces out a cough and averts his gaze from Wooyoung’s shit-eating grin. “A job is a job, though, so I’m going to have to ask you to come with me so that I can get a report written up.”

Wooyoung lets out an exasperated sigh, but he undoes his seatbelt and follows San out of the car. On the way up the stairs to the station entrance, a superior passes them, and San gives him a respectful nod. Amusingly enough, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wooyoung do so in kind. For some reason, the officer chooses today, of all days, to strike up a conversation with him, and San and Wooyoung follow him over to the side of the steps.

“Officer Choi, always a joy to see you. How are you doing?”

San goes through the usual motions. “I’m doing well, Officer Park, what about you?”

“Same old, same old,” the officer replies, waving a hand dismissively. Then, he turns his gaze to Wooyoung. “My current assignment has me out of the office a lot, so I haven’t had much time to meet new recruits. It’s nice to meet you...”

“Uh, Wooyoung,” Wooyoung says, eyes wide. He reaches forward to shake the hand that the officer has extended towards him. “Jung Wooyoung.”

“Nice to meet you, Officer Jung.”

Wooyoung still looks a bit dazed, but he responds in kind. “Nice to meet you, as well, Officer Park.”

San bites back a laugh when Wooyoung salutes the man in front of him, and Officer Park raises his eyebrows.

“It’s not the ‘90s anymore, Officer Jung. A handshake is good enough.”

“Oh, really? Sorry, I’m, uhm, still new here.”

Deciding that they’ve had enough comic relief for one day, San steps in to save the now-rapidly-reddening boy. “Well, _Officer Jung_ and I have a case to write up within the hour, so we’d better get going.” Wooyoung shoots him a side-eye at the emphasis, and San tilts his head to grin back at him.

“Alright, I’ll let you get to it. See you around, Officer Choi. Officer Jung.” 

Courteous nods are exchanged, and surprisingly, Wooyoung takes the lead in trodding up the rest of the steps. San trails behind, smile never fading. When they get to the top, Wooyoung turns to face him; he narrows his eyes at the amused expression on San’s face.

“What are you so happy about?”

“I’m just impressed by what happened back there. I must say, you make quite a convincing officer.” For emphasis, San salutes Wooyoung.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but the uptick of his lips belies his good humor. Shaking his head, he turns to face the door, and his expression falters at the insignia on the entrance. San’s pang of guilt returns full force when Wooyoung turns back to him, lips pursed.

“Guess it’s time, huh?”

Wooyoung steps forward and pushes the door open. He paces inside and keeps it propped for San; San wavers at the entrance, and Wooyoung furrows his eyebrows.

“What, am I supposed to write myself up?”

San lets out a breath of amusement, then steps back and gestures Wooyoung outside. Expression skeptical, Wooyoung releases the door and walks back out to the stairs. He crosses his arms, staring expectantly at San.

“This better be good.”

“You’re in no position to be so bratty, you know.”

“It defines who I am,” Wooyoung says, shrugging. He pauses to beam at the sparkle in San’s eyes. “Yeah, get it? Like the meme?” he asks, voice pitching higher in excitement.

San cocks his head in confusion, and Wooyoung lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh?” San asks, eyebrows lifted. “Okay, then.” He gestures to the door and starts back up the steps, and Wooyoung reaches an arm out to stop him.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it! Officer Choi, you are so fun, the funnest, no one can compare to how fun—”

“Okay, okay,” San laughs. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Wooyoung stops immediately, anticipation clear on his face. “What do you mean?”

San smiles. “I’ve decided to drop the charges. You’re free to go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. There are bigger fish to fry than a college student carrying a few grams of MDMA. Just try to stay out of trouble from now on, yeah?”

Wooyoung blinks at him. “You’re serious?”

“Sorry, do you _want_ to be arrested?”

“No! I just…” A smile breaks across Wooyoung’s face. “You’re a good man, Officer Choi.”

San wrinkles his nose. “You don’t have to call me that. San is fine.”

“Okay, Officer Choi,” Wooyoung teases, but his expression grows meek when San raises his eyebrows at him. “Sorry,” he squeaks, rushing down the stairs before, presumably, San decides to arrest him as payback. San pushes back a smile and, with an amicable nod, starts back up the steps. 

“Alright, then. Have a good night, Wooyoung.”

“I prefer Officer Jung, actually,” Wooyoung calls after him. San spins around to give him a pointed look, but his pretense falters at the bright grin on Wooyoung’s face. San scoffs and shakes his head and, with one last wave, turns and heads into the station. 

Not a minute later, he realizes that he forgot all of his stuff in the trooper, and he makes his way back outside. Wooyoung is still there, leaning against a wall to the left of the stairs. At the sound of San’s footsteps, he looks up from his phone.

“What are you still doing here?” San asks.

“I’m trying to figure out what bus I should take to get back to my apartment.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung responds. “In case you forgot, you were kind of my ride here.”

San presses his lips into a thin line, and he almost rolls his eyes at the way that Wooyoung’s eyes widen. “I already told you, I’m not going to arrest you, okay?”

“Like, ever?”

This time, San really does roll his eyes. “You really like pushing your luck, huh?”

“It’s one of my many charms,” Wooyoung laughs. “Anyways, you seem to enjoy it.”

Wooyoung’s right, he really does. Most of San’s co-workers are double his age and doubly jaded, so it’s been a while since he’s been able to banter with someone like this. Admittedly, the playfulness of their conversation is much a result of the fact that Wooyoung’s brattier than most people San has ever met, but, looking at the sparkling eyes of the boy in front of him, San can’t bring himself to mind.

He realizes, also, that Wooyoung looks cold. It’s chillier tonight than it has been all week, and the tip of Wooyoung’s nose is faintly rosy. 

“Do you want a ride home?”

Wooyoung lifts an eyebrow at him, and San feels an odd need to supplement the question.

“I have some time now, since I’m not...arresting you.”

Wooyoung hums, head slightly tilted as he regards San. It’s a mere second before he reaches a decision - a surprise to San, who’s grown accustomed to more snark.

“Alright, if you insist,” Wooyoung responds, hopping to his feet.

"Actually, I didn’t insist on anyth—” 

“Oh my god, can you just play along?” Wooyoung huffs, and he turns around and heads towards the trooper before San can piece together a retort.

San shakes his head in good humor and follows Wooyoung over to the car. 

\---

“So, where are we headed?” San asks, settling into the driver’s seat.

“I’ll tell you where to turn,” Wooyoung responds, pulling a navigation app up on his phone. “At the parking lot exit, take a left.”

“You’re not going to take me anywhere weird, are you?”

“Oh, like the police station?”

San should have seen it coming, and the defeat lacks a bitter edge. “Touché.”

On the way to their destination, the conversation flows just as easily as before; at one point, there’s a slight lull, but Wooyoung picks the rhythm up again with an animated retelling of something that happened to him during lab the other day.

“Wait, but you got blamed for it?” San prompts, grinning, fully invested in the story.

“Yeah, I know! I tried to tell her that Yunho was the one who let them out, but — Oh, this is me on the left.”

San slows the car to a stop, pulling up next to the curb. The apartment complex is impressive, to say the least - it's sleek and modern, complete with slate grey beams, cedar accents, and full-length glass panes.

“Do you live here?” San asks, surprise clear in his voice. “I mean, not that...sorry, it was a stupid question.”

“It’s not a stupid question,” Wooyoung says, unbuckling his seat belt. He has one leg out the door before he turns to finish the thought. “No, of course I don’t live here. My mother taught me not to give my address out to strangers, civil servants or not.”

San scoffs. Wooyoung grins at him and motions to get up. For a moment, he wavers, then shifts back into the car.

He leans over and gives San a quick peck on the cheek, and before San can properly react, Wooyoung’s out the door.

“I’ll make sure to give you five stars on the app!” he teases, giving San a wave. By the time San regains his bearings, Wooyoung has scurried out of ear-shot, leaving him far more flustered than he’d like to admit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you'd like, you can reach out to me on twitter - though I'm taking a break from writing for ateez, I am definitely still up to enthuse over them (perhaps excessively).
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/alphabetsleuth) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/alphabetsleuth)


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